


Heat

by dirtycirce (callmecirce)



Series: Miraculous One-Shots [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Marichat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 09:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecirce/pseuds/dirtycirce
Summary: Adrien and Marinette have very different ideas about how to beat the heat.  Shameless Marichat fluff, with an eensy-weensy bit of sin thrown in.





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookskitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookskitten/gifts), [a_miiraculer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_miiraculer/gifts).



> This is my "cliche MariChat balcony make-out scene" Fluffbomb (© Freedom_Shamrock). I know I'm coming late to the party, but non-constructive criticism is just shitty and it pisses me off. Seriously, if you don't have anything kind and/or constructive to say, please refrain from commenting. 
> 
> I also have to give a nod to a_miiraculer's WIP story Heatwave, which provided the inspiration for this one. If you'd like to read it, you can find it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10312094/chapters/22800116

From her place on her balcony, Marinette watched as the sun painted the sky in vivid shades of red, orange, and pink as it finally descended.  It was almost 9:30 at night, but summer in Paris meant that the sun didn’t set until late.  Normally, this wouldn’t bother Marinette in the least.  Long days meant more natural light for her sketching and sewing.  At the moment, though, Paris was in the midst of a scorching heatwave, and she’d just spent the entire day trapped inside of her parents’ sweltering bakery.  Even now, after a cool shower, wearing the skimpiest pajamas in her drawer and sitting in the path of a breeze, she was still sweating.  At least there _was_ a breeze out here on her balcony; the air inside was unbearably stagnant.

Purple and indigo slowly chased the pink from the sky.  Night would bring some relief from the heat, and Marinette welcomed the burgeoning darkness.  Unfortunately, it would still be uncomfortably warm inside, and though she was exhausted, she was not looking forward to sleeping in her stuffy room.  Even with all of her windows open, it would not be as nice as this.

With a sigh, she dropped her head back against her lounger, and ran her condensation-covered glass of ice-cold lemonade over her forehead, considering.  It was a clear night, and it seemed that the heat had even the mosquitoes laying low.  She was five stories up; the only one who could get to her there was Chat Noir, and even if he did happen by, he wouldn’t hurt her.   The lounger was comfortable, she was sleepy, and she saw no reason not to just stay where she was.  She reclined the lounger and allowed herself to drift off.

 

* * *

 

 

Adrien was going absolutely stir-crazy.  He’d hardly left the mansion in days, thanks to the heat.  Not many people in Paris had air conditioning, but he _did_ and he was loath to leave it. 

Until now.

“Plagg?”

“No.”

“You don't even know what I want.”

“Kid, you’ve been climbing the walls all day, and you only ever say my name like that when you want to go for a run.”  He rolled lazily on his cushion, putting his back to his chosen.  “The answer is no.”

“Come on, we’ve been cooped up in here for days!”

“Nuh-uh.  It’s too hot.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, knowing that Plagg was holding out for a bribe.  “Oh, come on.  The sun went down an hour ago, it can’t be that bad.”  Plagg gave a laughably fake snore.  Adrien sighed and pulled out the big guns.  “There’s a whole round of camembert in it for you when we get back.”

Plagg popped up like a jack-in-the-box.  “Now you’re talking!  But I want a sample now.  Show of good faith, and all that.”

“Gouda or Brie now.  Camembert later.  My final offer, take it or leave it.”

“Ugh, fine.  Gimme the brie.”

With some relief, Adrien pulled the brie from his personal mini-fridge and bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited for Plagg to down the cheese.  He called for his transformation as soon as the gluttonous little kwami had swallowed, and then he was out the window.

It was wonderful to get out and stretch his legs after being stuck at home for several days.  He’d grown accustomed to his nightly romps, and anytime he had to give one up, for whatever reason, he felt its loss keenly.  Three consecutive days of inactivity had been intolerable, even if it had been self-imposed.  He tore across the rooftops, barely stifling the temptation to whoop out his joy. 

Unfortunately for Adrien, it _was_ still hot.  The wind of his movement was refreshing on his face, but sadly, the rest of him was covered in form-fitting leather.  The heat got to him far sooner than he liked.  Unwilling to stop so soon, he paused only long enough to tug the belled zipper at his neck down to his navel and then he was off again.  When he finally ran out of steam, he collapsed his baton and slowed to a walk.  He wandered in circles while his heart rate slowed, and tried to decide what to do next.  He was done with his run, but he still wasn’t ready to go home. 

So, what now?  He couldn’t just drop in at Nino’s house as Chat Noir.  Doing that to Alya would be even weirder. But…Marinette?  It had been a while, but he had been known to stop by her balcony on occasion.  He couldn’t even remember exactly how it had started.  He’d gone to check on her after an akuma attack or something, and discovered that she was able to converse with him much more freely as Chat than as Adrien.  Suddenly, he found himself craving her company.  It was late, but he could at least go by there.  If she was asleep, he’d just suck it up and head home.

Mind made up, he looked around to get his bearings and found that he wasn’t far from her house at all.  He was only a few minutes away!  With a grin, he re-extended his staff and was off to visit a Princess.

 

* * *

 

 Adrien arrived on her balcony in a silent crouch, so as not to wake her if she’d already gone to bed.  It was a flawless landing, but he very nearly ruined it with a surprised yelp when he saw that he was not alone on the balcony. 

Marinette had not, in fact, gone to bed, but she was very definitely asleep.

On the balcony. 

Adrien stood, scratching the back of his head, and considered his options.  To wake her, or leave her?  If she’d fallen asleep out here by accident, it would be kind to wake her and send her to bed.   But if she’d elected to sleep out here on purpose, then waking her would be rude.  He shifted his weight, dithering over what to do, until it registered what she was sleeping _in_.

Or, more pointedly, what she wasn’t sleeping in.

He’d seen her several times in pajamas when he’d come to visit before.  Usually, when not in her day clothes, she wore modest flannel or cotton pj’s.  Usually, though, they were not in the middle of a heatwave.

In lieu of a comfortable tee, she wore a pale, fitted camisole tank top with a low scooping neckline, and the bottom hem had begun to ride up on her stomach.  In place of her usual cotton pajama pants or fitted yoga pants (the latter of which were bad enough, honestly), she’d put on a pair of dark-colored jersey shorts that covered little more than boy-short style panties.  The rest of her was nothing but sleep-mussed hair and long expanses of smooth, bare skin.

At that point, Adrien realized two things simultaneously: first, that he was now feeling over-warm for a whole new reason, and second, that he had been there staring at his sleeping friend—his gorgeous, nearly naked, sleeping friend—for several minutes like some sort of creeper.  He decided abruptly that he really ought to go and just let her sleep. 

He’d have gotten away with it, except that he stepped backward away from her rather than turning first.  He walked right into her make-shift table and fell backwards over it, upending the table and sending her teapot to the ground with a spectacular crash.

 

* * *

 

 Marinette woke rather suddenly to a loud bang and the sound of breaking pottery.  It took a moment for her heart to stop racing, and to make sense of what she was seeing.  When she did, she blinked, and rubbed her eyes, but nothing changed.

Her table was rolling on its side, her teapot had shattered, and yup, there was a rather sheepish-looking cat sprawled in the middle of the mess.

“Chat?”

“Er, good evening, Princess.”  He stood, and righted the table, babbling awkwardly.  “I’m sorry I woke you.  I just came by to say hello, but you’re sleeping, so, I’ll just be going now…”

“Chat, wait,” she laughed in reply.  “It’s ok.  I’m awake now, so you might…as well…stay…”

He’d turned back toward her as she spoke, and she’d finally noticed that his suit was almost completely unzipped.  Now, she’d already known that her akuma-fighting partner was well-built, and in good shape. His suit left very little to the imagination, after all.  In the couple of years since they’d met, he’d grown both taller and broader, and his once lanky build had gained some bulk.  But there was a difference between _knowing_ something, and _seeing_ something, and that difference was having a profound effect on her equilibrium.

“Hey, are you ok, Princess?”  Chat cocked his head in confusion.  “You zoned out on me.”

Marinette snapped her mouth closed.  “Er, yeah!”  She cleared her throat awkwardly, and hoped that it was dark enough to hide her blush.  “So, what are you doing out and about tonight?  I’d have thought it was too hot to be gallivanting around in black leather.” 

“It is,” he replied, laughing ruefully. He leaned back against the railing, and the sheen of sweat on his bare throat and chest shimmered in the moonlight. (Marinette pretended not to notice.) “But I was going nuts, stuck inside the house, so I decided to brave the heat.”

“And you couldn’t have gone out without the leather?”  That thoughtless comment triggered a mental image of Chat standing before without the leather—or much of anything else.  She shifted in her seat, feeling a lot warmer all of a sudden.

“As myself?  Uh, no.  That wouldn’t have worked out so well.”

Marinette frowned, but didn’t say anything.  She knew already from previous conversations that he didn’t have the best home life.  She didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much that she could do about it.  Instead, she seized the opportunity to get away from him for a few minutes, and compose herself.  She cleared her throat. 

“Hey, do you want something to drink?  If you’ve been out running around, you need to make sure you stay hydrated.”

“That would be _furry_ nice Princess, thank you.”

“Ugh.”  Marinette rolled her eyes, and grabbed the now-warm and watered-down lemonade from the floor next to her lounger.  “I have not had enough sleep to deal with puns,” she mumbled as she made her way down through the trap door.

 

* * *

 

Adrien continued to lean against the wrought iron bars surrounding Marinette’s balcony, and laid his arms out to either side along the railing. In spite of his embarrassment, he was glad that he hadn’t managed to get away without waking her. Hanging out on this balcony, even alone, was way better than going home.  Besides, he was the only one who knew he’d been ogling her while she slept.  He squashed the bit of guilt he felt over that, and made himself relax.        

 A few minutes later, something clattered to the floor amid the broken pottery, and then Marinette came back up through the trap door with two glasses of iced water in her hands. “I cannot wait for this heat to break,” she said, handing one glass to Adrien and setting the other on her table. Then she bent to use the dust bin and brush she’d tossed up to sweep the shattered pot from the floor.

Adrien frowned, wishing he'd recognized the thing for what it was right away.  “You should have let me do that, Princess. I’m the one who broke it.”

She waved him away with a smile, and continued her rant on the weather.  “It got all the way up to 37 today, and even now it’s only dropped to 31.  I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”  Her task finished, she emptied the dustbin into a small wastebasket, collected her glass from the table, and sat on the floor with her back against the railing.

“Me either.”  Adrien followed her to the floor, resting his forearms on his bent knees, with his glass dangling from the fingertips of one hand.  “It’s been too hot to go out, so I’ve been hiding in the A/C.  I just hate being cooped up.”

“A/C?” She turned to face him fully, and he noticed a bead of sweat rolling from her collar bone down to disappear between her breasts.  “As in, _air conditioning_?”

“Uh, yeah?”  He jerked his eyes back to her face.  “Isn’t your house air conditioned?”

“No!  I’ve been stuck in a sweltering hot _bakery_ for the last three days.”  As she spoke, she pulled the fabric of her shirt out from her body a couple of times, then let it go with a pop.  “Do you have any idea how hot my dad’s ovens make it in there?  They heat the whole house!”

Adrien took a gulp of cold water, trying to pretend that he hadn’t just seen Marinette’s bra.  “I guess being stuck inside a cool house isn’t so bad, after all.”

“A cool house.  I think I remember what that’s like.”  Marinette took a drink of her water, and a drop of condensation fell from the glass and landed on the swell of one breast, just above the top of her shirt.  She jumped a bit in surprise, and rubbed the droplet away with her fingertips, laughing.  “A bit of water dropped on me.  It actually felt pretty good, but it surprised me.”

Adrien pulled his eyes away from the water that still glistened on her skin, and shot her a Cheshire grin.  “It felt good, huh?”  He dipped his clawed fingertips into his water, and flicked them at her, spraying her with ice cold droplets. 

She giggled and squealed, and he did it again, following her when she tried to scoot away and aiming for any bit of bare skin that he could reach.  Then Marinette decided to give up on escaping, and switched to fighting back.  He fell back on one hand when she suddenly lunged toward him to dunk her hand into his water.  She flicked it at Adrien’s exposed chest, and he gasped at the sensation of cold water on his overheated skin.

He chuckled a bit breathlessly, and glanced at the water now running down his chest.  “That does feel good.”  He looked back up to see that she’d frozen in place with an arrested look on her face. Then he took in the fact that she was kneeling between his legs, her weight resting on one hand while the other still hovered near his body and he realized with sudden clarity that he had not been the only one feeling the sexual tension tonight.  Her eyes fell to his lips, and she drew her lower lips between her teeth.

“Marinette?”

She met his gaze, then dropped her eyes to his body and crawled forward a bit, placing her raised hand to the side of his hip.  His breath hitched.  What the hell was she doing?

“You’ve, uh, got a bit of water, just…here…”  She dipped her head to lap up a drop that had rolled from a pectoral muscle down over his abs, and he gasped at the feel of her tongue rasping over his skin, feeling it there—and lower.  He held himself still, and curled his fingers into his palms, irrationally worried that she would stop if he moved. “And a bit more, here…” She moved to a spot a bit higher, pressing an openmouthed kiss to the curve of the opposite pectoral, dangerously close to his flat nipple.  Once again, the sensation pinged from there down to his groin.  “And here…”  She moved higher still, and he let his head fall back as she kissed the hollow of his throat, the pulse-point in his neck, the edge of his jaw.  She slid a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, and tilted his head forward again to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Her knee brushed the inside of his thigh as she shifted, _very_ close to where he was now straining against his leather pants, and he gasped against her mouth.  Then her mouth was inexplicably gone, and he opened his eyes to see her regarding him uncertainly.

 

* * *

 

 Marinette’s heart was thundering in her chest.  She had no idea what she was doing, or why she’d thought it might be a good idea to do it.  But she’d been so aroused and thought that he was too, so she _had_ done it, but he hadn’t touched her or kissed her back, and now he was staring at her blankly, and oh god could she just sink through the floor now, please?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, drawing her hand back.

He blinked. “What?”

“Ohmygod, I’m so sorry.”  She scooted away, feeling like an ass.  “I shouldn’t have done that.  I misread the situation, I guess—I mean, I thought that yo-eep!”

Chat had grabbed one of her flailing hands, and pulled her back to him.  She caught herself against his chest with her free hand, and looked at him in confusion. 

“You didn’t misread anything,” he said simply.

“Oh.  I—I didn’t?”  He released her hand and she let it slide from his shoulder to his chest, relaxing a little against him.

He shook his head with a smirk.  “Not until you stopped kissing me, anywa-mmfff!”

Marinette cut him off with her mouth, and he speared his fingers through her loose hair, tilting her head to give them both better access.  They nibbled and tasted at first, each of them exploring the other.  Then he deepened the kiss, and it quickly grew beyond that.  Their tongues tangled together and their hands began to roam and they both found themselves swept away in a conflagration that neither had seen coming.  The kiss was electric, and desire arced between them like a living force.

With one arm banded around her waist, Chat tipped her head back with a thumb under her jaw, and kissed his way down her throat.  Then he slid his hand down from her jaw to trail lightly over the side of her breast, and further still to her hip, while his mouth continued to do clever things at her throat and down her chest.   Everywhere he touched her, he sent little jolts ricocheting through her body.  She gasped his name, and dug her fingers into his shoulders.

“You’re not close enough,” he growled.  Hooking his hands behind her knees, he pulled her up over his legs to straddle his lap.  Their new position brought her body into very close contact with his, and with her hands on his shoulders, she instinctively rolled her hips against him.  There wasn’t nearly enough friction there, but even that little bit made her moan. 

“Ah, god, Mari.”  He moved his hands back to her hips, and pulled her higher against him, pressing the bell on his zipper into her belly.  He kissed over the swell of her breast, along the edge of her tank top, just where the water droplet had been.  “I’ve been wanting to do that since I got here.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He let her slide back down, and returned his attentions to her mouth. Framing his face with her hands, she kissed him back hungrily, sucking first on his lower lip, and then on his tongue.  He moaned into her mouth, bringing his hands up her sides to clutch at her shoulders.

“I wish I could feel you,” he panted, squeezing her shoulders.

Marinette slid her hands under the leather at his shoulders and pushed.  “Does this come off?” 

“Never tried.”

She slid her hands farther back, but he was sticky with sweat and it wouldn’t slide.  “Ngh, it’s stuck to your skin.”

“Hmm.”  He nibbled at her collarbone, and she felt him smile against her skin when she gasped. “There’s another way to get it off, you know.”

What?  She leaned back to look at his face, bemused.  “You mean…?”

“I could release my transformation.” 

“Y-you trust me that much?”

“Yeah, I do.”  He glanced away and chuckled a bit self-deprecatingly.  “I always thought that I would show myself first to Ladybug, but she never wanted to know.”

Marinette felt rather chagrined at that.  He knew and trusted both sides of her; it was time for her to do the same.  She put a hand to his cheek, and turned his face back to hers.  “Yes she did, _Chaton_ , she just wasn’t ready.  But..I am now.”

His brow had furrowed for a moment, when she called him _Chaton_.  Now, his expression had turned to one of wonder.  “L-ladybug?”

“It’s me, _Chaton_.  And, I want you to know that I wouldn’t do all of this with just anyone.” She gestured to their intimate position, and bit her lip uncertainly.  “I-I could go get Tikki, if you want, to show you…?”

“No, I believe you.  I just—I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”  He touched a dark earring reverently, then slid his fingers into her hair.  “I’m so glad it’s you.”

Marinette smiled happily, swaying forward.  “Really?” 

“Really,” he whispered against her mouth, before kissing her again.  It started as a tender, gentle thing, but it didn’t take long at all to become just as heated as it had been before. He broke away after a few minutes, and pressed his forehead to hers. 

“Before we get carried away again, do you…do you want to know who I am?”

She bit her lip, and nodded.  “Show me?”

 

* * *

 

“Claws in, Plagg.” 

Adrien kept his eyes locked on hers as the transformation left him, and he knew the exact moment that she realized who he was.  Her eyes widened impossibly, and she went rigid in his lap.  Fear made a cold knot in his stomach, and he began to worry that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“Marinette? What—”

“Kid, for all of that nonsense, you owe me _two_ full wheels of camembert.”

Marinette jumped and turned to look in surprise at the little black kwami floating near her shoulder.  Adrien dropped his head against the metal bars behind him in exasperation.  “I’ll give you three if you make yourself scarce _right now_.”

“Done.”

Adrien opened his eyes and lifted his head to see Marinette regarding him with a soft smile on her face.  “Sorry about that.  Plagg is just—Plagg.”

Marinette giggled.  “He’s cute.”

“You hear that kid?”  Plagg’s voice came from somewhere near the trapdoor.  “She thinks I’m cute!”

“Plagg…!”  Adrien called warningly. 

“Yeah, yeah.”  There was a dark blur by the wall, and the trapdoor closed.

“Ugh.  Is your kwami a pain in the neck, too?”

“No, actually, Tikki is really sweet.”

Adrien scoffed.  “Next you’ll tell me that she likes to eat sweets, rather than stinky cheese.”

“Er—“  Marinette looked away sheepishly.

“No!”  Adrien groaned.  “Seriously?”

“Chocolate chip cookies are her favorite.”

He smiled ruefully.  “Wanna trade?”  She giggled again, and shook her head.  “Ah, well, you can’t blame a cat for trying.”  His smile faded.  “So, do you mind?”

She looked genuinely confused.  “Mind?”

“That I’m…me.”

“That you’re Chat Noir?”  He nodded, and she shook head vehemently.  “Why on earth would I _mind_?  I know that I kind of went braindead on you there for a second, but, well, it’s not every day that a girl finds out that her longtime partner and best friend is secretly also her crush.”

This time it was Adrien who looked confused.  “Crush?”

“Ye-ah.  I kind of fell for you the day that you gave me the umbrella, and after that, I would just kind of short-circuit whenever I saw you.”  She laughed.  “Actually, I might have gone back into freak out mode if your kwami hadn’t distracted us.”   

“So I’m the guy you’ve been holding out for?”

She nodded.  “Until tonight.”

He grinned.  “Until tonight.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've now gone back through it, and corrected a few minor things here and there. But, I'm human, so please forgive any errors. If you're feeling froggy, you can point them out to me, and I will correct them. ^_^
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!! The response so far has been overwhelmingly positive, both here and at FF.net. You guys really know how to make a girl feel good. Thank you so much for your support!!


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